


Holes Can Be Filled

by theimpossibleimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After Season Seven, Alternate Future, Angst, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hugs, Kinda plot-y, Lucifer - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, One-Shot, Profound Bond, Purgatory, Same Past, Sort of my own version of the Darkness, The Darkness - Freeform, hand-holding, the Devil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossibleimpala/pseuds/theimpossibleimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm so –"<br/>"No." Dean interrupted, "No."<br/>Then there was more silence, until the hunter shifted forth a few paces, his voice scratchy, not having bothered to clear it, "I forgive you, Cas. You screwed up pretty damn bad, but I forgive you, okay?"<br/>Cas would respond, but something in Dean's tone told him not to.<br/>"You're family."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holes Can Be Filled

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, my first one-shot! Hopefully you enjoy and it gives you done feels. Lemme know if I've made any major mistakes. 
> 
> Also, very minimal spoilers overall. Most everything in here isn't canon.

Castiel was staring at Dean desperately, saying everything he could think of to convince the man not to change. 

The world was falling apart, and Dean was the one ripping it to shreds. 

It had all begun when the Knight of Hell, Abaddon, had yanked him out of Purgatory. She had done so with a single hand on him, burning a black handprint onto to his shoulder, overlapping the faint red mark of the other like a cruel joke. After countless days of trekking through a forest with a vampire named Benny, fighting off Leviathan and creatures none of them had seen before – just as the swirling, hypnotic portal had shimmered in the distance – a fiery-haired woman had shown up. She'd been covered in blood, a malicious grin tugging at her lips, and eyes black. She radiated power, causing the multi-species trio to come to halt at her feet. 

She'd smiled lazily, seeming drunk with whatever force pounded through her.   
"Dean, hun, I've been looking all over for you. My daddy, Lucy, has a gift for you."

"What?" Dean had growled, he didn't know who the woman was. But he knew she wasn't to be trusted. 

"He said you won't be able to fight it. He said you don't have anything inside of you. You aren't strong enough. He said you'll take the burden of who he was." 

"Dean!" Castiel had shouted over the sound whirring in their ears. It was like a helicopter, only louder, and they could feel it inside of them. Something angry, something fierce, unforgiving, and blind with hatred. Something dark. "Don't listen to her! You, we, have to get through the portal! Hurry! Go!"

Only Dean couldn't run, Abaddon held her hand out in front of her like she was throttling something. Wind whipped leaves everywhere, twigs and branches snapping off from the trees and tumbling to the ground with a crash. Benny leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding an entire tree that gave a wretched groan that vibrated the earth when it fell. Cas was caught in the middle, not knowing where to go or what he could do to help. Abaddon tilted her head at the angel, sneered, and waved her other manicured hand. Cas was pitched backwards into the woods, his back hitting a boulder as he got the wind knocked out of him and he passed out. 

"Take it, Dean," Abaddon hissed silkily, "It's yours, isn't it!? He said I wasn't strong enough. Me! Abaddon! Not strong enough! He said I was too full! Guess what of? Of passion!" She cackled manically. Until that point, she'd somehow been hovering over the grass, pulsing with sickening energy, at her next words however, she began sinking down. Her boots crunching the autumn leaves beneath her toes. "Remember Famine, Dean? How you hungered for nothing? That's why it's you! Because you are empty inside. You were the Righteous man, now you are nothing but iniquitous. The hole you scraped out inside of yourself will be filled with a thousand terrors. You will be the worst monster the world has ever seen."

There had been no fight, Benny couldn't do anything, Cas was unconscious, and while Dean struggled under her invisible grip he could do nothing to stop her when she stepped forward to him. She yanked him forth by his shirt, her teeth snapping like an animals'. The other hand burned the new print into his shoulder. With a snarl, as Dean twisted his head away, she placed her mouth right over Dean's. 

It wasn't a kiss. 

Imagine a black hole. Planets, stars, meteors, comets, dust, particles – all orbiting it constantly, all destined to be sucked into its infinite depths – all being sucked into it. Now flip it around, switch it so everything is falling out of it, it's all being wrenched out like the back of a hammer ripping a nail from a wall, all of those rocks and lights and lives being poured out, being set free. That's what was happening. Abaddon was the black hole, and the entirety of Hell and darkness and death was flooding into Dean – from one black hole to another. 

Castiel had had gotten back up, he'd spotted the red-head and the hunter at once, and he used what little celestial grace he had left in him to cast the demon away from Dean. It was too late. Dean had swallowed everything, it was filling him to the brim, threatening to spill over the edge in an odious bloodbath. The angel vaulted over to him, shoving his arm beneath the man's shoulder to transport them both to the portal. He hadn't planned on going back to earth – the human realm – he wanted to stay here, needed to stay here. He'd destroyed so much of the world, and slaughtered thousands of angels – of his family. He deserved Purgatory, it was his punishment, and in a sense, his salvation. 

He forgot that all now, as one thought consumed him entirely: I must save Dean Winchester. 

Dean. 

His Dean. 

 

His Dean who'd been pitted against the evil's of the world since he was four years old. His Dean who'd never, ever, had a friend as a kid. His Dean who'd lost their mother, but then had seen her again, many times, when they were older. His Dean was belittled by his own father, his Dean who hung on to John Winchester's every word. 

Dean who would spend his last breath saving his brother, Sam. Because Sam was his everything, because Sam was the only world he ever truly cared about saving. Dean who'd died so many times he'd lost count, Dean who'd went to Hell and said no to Alastair for thirty years. 

Dean who'd been ganking beasts since he was in his teens, Dean who'd never had a childhood. 

But also his Dean who thought women should but put on a pedestal, who hated men who treated ladies like crap. His Dean that smiled softly at little kids, and whose pupils got wide when he held a baby. His Dean who had practically been a father himself for a year, and who'd loved it. His Dean who made Ben forget who he was because he thought the kid and Lisa were safer not remembering him. 

Dean who ate hamburgers and milkshakes and fries, who devoured burritos in a single bite and ate chips straight from the bag. Dean whose mouth watered at the mere mention of pie, and who was a wonderful cook himself if he ever got a real kitchen to work with. 

Dean with his classic rock collection of Motörhead, Nirvana, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Def Leppard, AC/DC, Deep Purple, Bob Dylan, Kansas, Foreigner, Boston, Survivor, and many, many more. 

Dean with his 1967 Chevrolet Impala he'd inherited from John – but it had never been the older man's. It had always been Dean's. Maybe Sam and Dean's, because of their initials scratched into the side-boards and the army man stuck in the ashtray. They may never of had a home, but as a prophet once said, they were never in fact homeless. 

His Dean who had saved so many people. Countless people, really. Probably more people than anyone else. His Dean who was selfless and risky and sometimes idiotic, but still his Dean, because Dean was always too stubborn to be anyone else. 

But most importantly, his Dean who he'd seen for the first time as a soul. His Dean who'd been so fragile and delicate when he's first come back to earth. His Dean who stabbed him straight in the heart the first time they met. His Dean who'd hated him and mocked him and fought him so many times, and for so long. His Dean who'd refused to believe angels even existed. 

His Dean who stopped the Apocalypse. His Dean who'd sacrificed his brother to do so. 

His Dean who he couldn't stop looking at. 

With his forest-green eyes, and soft brown hair. With wide shoulders and a bow-legged walk. With boots, jeans, and flannel shirts. A little bit sure of himself, a lot a bit determined, and convinced everything was down to him. But that was okay. 

His Dean whose white-toothed smile warmed him from the inside out, who made him feel emotions that he'd be prepared to bet no angel ever had before. His Dean who he turned his gaze on far too often, except the hunter would always stare right back, and they'd watch eachother. They'd learn each other. Sam would clear his throat like he was interrupting something, and the connection would be lost. But Cas would still feel his heart beating faster and something sweet shoot through his veins, so he wouldn't look away, Dean would. 

His Dean who'd searched for him endlessly in Purgatory even after the angel had told him directly that he was a danger. His Dean who'd fallen into step with him eagerly the instant they found themselves on the same page. 

His Dean who'd tease him about his social awkwardness. Who'd say things like "we're Thelma and Louise" or "use the Force, Cas" and Castiel wouldn't understand a word. But he'd go with it, and a fire would ignite in Dean's chest and send sparks throughout him because Cas's obliviousness made him happy. Which made Cas, in turn, happy as well. 

His Dean who'd he rebelled for – whom he'd given everything up for. Not from admiration or even necessarily the desire for free will, but because when he peered at Dean, eyes squinted, head tilted, he saw something there that glowed like the morning sun. Something so spectacular it streaked the horizon gold, purple, pink, green, and eventually blue every time he saw him. 

Dean was other-worldly. Dean was magnificent. And Castiel was going to save him. 

 

Though no one knew it, after Castiel had returned from being 'Godstiel' and after being filled with Leviathan, there had been a few minutes in which Cas and Dean had been alone. 

Cas stood on one side of the motel room, Dean on the the other. There was a tension in the air so thick it felt like it could crack the windows. It was 2 in the morning, and not a light was on, only a faint yellow glow from a street lamp behind the curtains offered any light. 

"I'm so –"

"No." Dean interrupted, "No."

Then there was more silence, until the hunter shifted forth a few paces, his voice scratchy, not having bothered to clear it, "I forgive you, Cas. You screwed up pretty damn bad, but I forgive you, okay?"

Cas would respond, but something in Dean's tone told him not to. 

"You're family."

That took the angel by surprise, and he glanced up in time to feel Dean slip and arm over his side, pulling him in for a hug. It's weird, they've hugged before, but not like this. Never, like this. With Dean burying his head on Cas's shoulder, his eyes shut, and a soft sigh escaping his lips. Cas leaned into it, holding on just as tight, maybe tighter. Neither were sure how much time passed, but it didn't seem like it could ever be enough. It took awhile for Cas to realise that maybe he should be letting go, that normal humans don't hold on this long. Except, it wasn't Castiel keeping them together, it was Dean. Dean wouldn't let the angel go, and the angel didn't want him to. 

A week later, amidst some Dick Roman drama, they'd found themselves alone again. Dean had been nursing a beer, as per usual, but as he retrieved himself another, he brought one for Cas too, who was sitting across from him at a table. He popped the tops open on both, and handed a bottle to Cas. Gingerly, he took it. He played with it between his fingers, tapping.

"Cheers, Cas."

"Cheers?"

"Yeah, cheers."

"I don't get it, what are we cheering for?"

"I don't know, whatever we wanna cheer for."

"Well I don't think celebrating the human race being turned into herd animals is very festive; it's all I can think about lately."

"Us?" Dean murmured quietly, his beer half raised, waiting to clink with Cas's. 

"What about us?"

"Let's celebrate us. Reunited. The angel and the hunter, right?"

Castiel smiled, "The angel and the hunter, I like the sound of that."

Dean glanced away, his expression tightening like he was holding back. 

"What?" Cas pushed, somewhat concerned. 

"It's just –" The human started, hesitating, "What if we could be more than this?"

"More than what, Dean?"

"More than an angel and a hunter. What if we could just be ourselves? No rules, no damned Leviathan or friggin' Apocalypse. What if it all stopped?"

"I would be human?" Cas clarified.

"Sure. I don't know, it wouldn't matter, I guess... I guess..." He swallowed, "Listen, what I'm trying to say is... What if even though all this shit is happening, what if we... Christ, Cas." Dean gave up halfway through his spiel, "Don't leave, okay? Don't go anywhere, I can't, I don't... I need you here man. I – I want you here. Not 'cus you're helpful or 'cus we got a goo-oozing Dick on our hands," He cringed at his choice of words, "But 'cus when you're gone, it feels like something, someone, is missing."

Cas thought through all that once or twice, trying to read between the lines. He tilted his head after some consideration, attempting to catch Dean's fretful eyes that were avoiding his, eventually their gazes locked, and the angel spoke, "There is no place I'd rather be than by your side."

And then there'd been that brief moment before Castiel had stabbed Richard Roman through the throat. He'd been about to a round a corner, he knew the Leviathan was just beyond the threshold. But he paused, Dean bumping into him, their backs both against the wall. The ocean blue irises met the green, and they melted together a bit, and Cas did something neither of them would forget for a long time. He slipped his fingers through Dean's, and their entwined hands hung between them. It lasted all of fifteen seconds, Cas studying the freckles on the other man's face, not checking if what he'd done was okay or not. All he knew, was that he needed reassurance, and that he wanted it from Dean. 

"Cas..." Dean whispered, but it was too late, the angel let go, and turned the corner to confront the monster behind the doors. 

And the last time, had been in Purgatory. While their public reuniting had been a relieved hug before fighting off a Leviathan – later they'd had an opportunity to catch up. Dean had yanked Cas's secret from his mouth without even trying; the angel gave away his plan to stay behind, to serve his sentence. 

"No! Cas, no. Goddamn it, all this work to find you and you were plannin' on stayin' here anyway? The hell? You can't do that."

"I never asked you to find me."

"No but you did ask me to save you from making any idiotic mistakes in the future and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

"This isn't idiotic! This is wise. I'll be a much more humble man if I serve my time in here. If I leave now, the angels will only seek to avenge their brothers and sisters by killing me. Don't you see? If I stay in here for a few hundred years they may be willing to forgive me. I could go back home."

"Screw that! Hundreds of years in this godforsaken place would tear you to shreds, think about it. What of you would be left besides a mad, celestial, killer? That can't be what you want. And if I were still alive, certainly everything I lo –" Dean's voice broke off mid-argument. His shoulders crumpled as he leaned forward from the tree trunk he was resting on, "Everything I love about you would be gone." Dean had decided right then that if what it took to bring his angel home was him pouring his heart out then he was gonna do it. There was no time for pride or stubbornness. In order to save Cas he had to forget all that shit for two seconds and just say something so true, that not even Cas could find logic around it. And at the very least, it would put the angel in a state of confusion long enough for Dean to find away to force Cas to come. 

All he knew was that he wasn't leaving without him. 

"I love you, Cas."

Cas shook his head, but his eyes had widened a remarkable amount and his mouth was open just enough to show the angel was shocked. Was it really that surprising? Dean wondered. Besides, hadn't Cas been the one to grab his hand before all this crap happened? 

"You're so infuriating sometimes, you know that?" Cas stated, fuming a bit, "You know how I feel about you so you're pulling a cheap trick just to get me to come with you."

"What? No – no Cas. I'm not... I'm not tricking you. I – I... Are you gonna make me say it again?"

Cas saw the despair in Dean's eyes. And he realised this wasn't a cruel joke. 

This was real. 

"Yes." He responded, because he desperately needed to hear the words again to be sure he wasn't dreaming. 

Dean sighed, but he seemed to have noticed Cas's change of thoughts, "I love you."

There could be no mistaking the sincerity in the hunter's tone. It was all so much for Cas to take in. He took a breath and answered, "I love you so much." 

He'd meant to say 'too' but the 'so much' had slipped out instead. It should have been awkward; the two of them standing some five-six feet apart and just staring at eachother, but it wasn't. Because this is what they'd always done wasn't it? This endless watching, looking, searching – in the other's face to see if they saw the same love they felt for them reflected back in return? What would Cas be without his blue eyes, or Dean without his green? Who would they be if everything they'd ever felt for each other hadn't been stored up in a chest and buried at the bottom of their hearts? This was it. This was them. Two complete idiots who didn't know the first thing about love and in consequence had been waiting years for this moment. 

 

Whether any of that mattered now was up in the air as Cas dragged Dean to the portal. Benny was still knocked out, and frankly, the angel couldn't really be bothered. But Dean would be pissed if his word was broken even if he was half-alive and incapable of holding himself up. So Cas raced over to the vamp, and flew them both to the portal. Benny got up, and without hesitation Cas was doing the enchantment to put Benny's soul in his forearm. With the vampire taken care of, the angel scooped Dean up by the arms and made his way the three feet to the swirling vortex. There was a decent chance none of them would survive this. Was Dean even human enough to leave? What had that bitch done to him? It was all happening too fast and everything was spinning, so he just charged through the gateway, in hopes that they'd make it out in one piece. 

What felt like two seconds later – though it could have been years later – he stumbled onto a street. The air was foggy, and a forest lined the road, huge evergreens stretched up dozens of feet and faded out into the clouds. The ground was damp, the sky drizzling and smelling of petrichor. 

Dean was gone. 

Had he burnt up? Was he dead? Had he been left behind? Where did he go?

"Dean!" Shouted Cas. The world had come to a standstill, "Dean!"

A murderous voice spoke from the trees, "Castiel. What are you doing here?"

The angel sucked in a breath of freezing air as Dean's silhouette showed through the mist. 

"I didn't understand what she meant by her father – Abaddon, I mean – but I get it now. Do you know who I am? What I've become?"

"Dean. Stop this." Cas began backing away as Dean started walking forward out of the shadows. 

Something was wrong with him, really wrong. In fact, once he was out of the woods and standing in the street he was still in the shadows, he was practically dripping with them, creating them. Cas peered behind the hunter, and saw that where he'd just walked he'd left behind deep scars in the ground. Literal, earth-shattering footprints. But the longer Cas surveyed it, he realised the cracks were spreading, bleeding out into the grass and crawling up the trunks of trees, blackening them as though they'd been burnt. Not even like that, like they'd been painted black. The darkness continued to climb up the trees, and when it reached the tips of them, spreading out like a spider web in the sky. Like a splatter of ink on paper. The gray sky was darkening at a rapid pace, and the clouds roared with thunder up above. 

"What are you?" Cas asked, unable to articulate anything else.

"I'm the Devil." Dean gave a wicked grin, "Lucifer gave up. Sent his mojo topside in Abaddon, and poured Hell into me. That was his mistake, giving it to me, I can be more powerful than he ever was." Dean waved his hand at the sky and it began to rain. 

Castiel glanced upwards at the droplets, squinting his eyes and continuing to back up, the blackness was inching towards his shoes, threatening to turn him into – into what, exactly? What would happen if let he the darkness take him? Suddenly, he stepped forward into it, pulling a frown onto Dean's face. Cas studied his feet, waiting for the black to take him, but rather a hole has opened up for him on the pavement, keeping him free of the dark. 

Dean bared his teeth, he didn't even look like himself anymore. It was him, in body, but not in mind or expressions or words, "What are you doing, angel?"

To be honest Cas wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, but something about what Abaddon had said before was clinging to him, because if there was one thing he'd become sure of in the past few months, it was that Dean was not empty inside. "You are not the burnt out shell of a man I once believed you to be."

"Pardon? Sorry, can't hear you over the storm." The Devil smiled again, and the rain fell harder. It was blood. Cas knew that without even looking. It was blood and it reeked horribly but now was not the time for that. 

"Listen to me," Cas spoke feverishly, "You’ve got this dark pit inside you. I know. Believe me, I know. But that doesn’t mean you have to fall into it. You don’t have to be a monster…It doesn’t matter what you are," He was within two feet of Dean and the rain and black was still parting for him, like he was just as powerful as Dean. And maybe, he was, "It only matters what you do. It’s your choice. You can stop whatever you're doing right now, or..."

"Or what? You'll stop me?"

"Yes."

Dean cackled, throwing back his head, "You can't stop me, little angel. No one can stop me. Whatever that idea is you got floating around your noggin is – it's wrong – ain't gonna work. I was an abyss on legs, now I'm Hell itself. You can't save the world. And now us damn Winchesters can't either."

"You weren't empty!" Cas shouted. He then became very certain that if he could just get Dean to remember everything he'd ever cared about or desired, that the man would come back; the darkness in him being cast away to God knows where. The point would be to save Dean, and figure out the payment later. "Don't you remember? You had Sam. Remember him? Your brother?" The Devil didn't respond, just peered down the street with lack of interest, "If he saw you now, what do you think he'd say?"

"Nothing. Because I'd rip his throat out before he got the chance."

Cas swallowed, "He would say that you were supposed to look after him. That he searched for you, and wanted you to come back. And you would recall that you loved him! He is your family! Don't you miss him?"

"No. Why would I? What's there to miss? I don't think he'd care much about me now, seeing as I'm abolishing the earth. It's time to start fresh, don't you think? This blackness is just the primer, then I'll pick my final colours."

"Why haven't you killed me?" Cas questioned testily. 

"I can't." Dean answered shortly, and with surprising honesty. 

"Why not?"

"Like I'd tell you."

"You could."

"Well I sure as fuck ain't going to."

Castiel watched him. A low rumbling sound began in his left ear, he turned to see what it was, and huge pick-up truck came barrelling down the street right at Cas. The driver either couldn't see him or they weren't paying attention, but they made no move to slow down. Dean stuck out a palm, and some unseen weight crushed the car in 2 seconds flat. 

Whoever was in there was dead. 

Cas's eyes swept between the truck and Dean and back again, it all made sense. 

Everything in the world has their opposite. Their cure, the medicine, the refresh button. Erasers fix pencil scribbles, white-out corrects pen, etc. 

Cas could fix Dean. 

"You are dark Dean, very dark –"

"Black as midnight black as pitch, blacker than the foulest witch." They rhymed. 

"But you and I... Share a more profound bond, remember?" Cas closed the space between them, covering Dean's shoulder where he knew his faded handprint lay. And, like magic, his hand began to glow. It was blinding, he had to look away and it was growing ever brighter still. Dean was saying something, or possible screaming, but they were both anchored to the ground, a migraine-worthy ringing danced in their heads. 

 

Some amount of time later – maybe days, weeks, months, who knows, Cas awoke again in a daze. Something warm was surrounding him. It smelt of campfire smoke and gunpowder, an underlying whiff if hamburger and alcohol, but also of blood and dirt and something else that was sour and rotten. Cas was awake, but he didn't open his eyes, his entire body aches and he wasn't sure if he even had a body. He couldn't tell. He didn't remember either, what had happened, all the he could fathom was that he'd been in Purgatory, facing a red-headed demon, and lots and lots of wind. 

He was peaceful just being here though, surrounded by a warmth as comfortable as the scent of fresh bread. He imagined himself in a bed, early in the morning, coffee nearby maybe a newspaper. It was a very human thing to consider, maybe he'd seen it in a movie or something. Maybe Dean had shown the film to him. 

Dean. 

Dean Winchester. The man whom he was supposed to save. 

He nearly sat up, but couldn't find enough willpower to do so, instead he slowly worked his eyes open. 

And there was Dean. His Dean, not a speck of darkness inside him. Dean gave a weak smile, and Cas tried to return it. It was the hunter's arms wrapped around the angel, they were on the side of the street; cold fog, a light drizzle, nothing black or bloody. 

"Cas, man, are you okay? Can you... Can you move?" 

The angel groaned, and with a huge amount of effort, sat up. Dean and him were both sitting in a damp patch of grass, the other man kept his arm around Cas's back to support him. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine. You're the one who was passed out in the middle of the road, have a death wish or somethin'?"

Cas gave him a confused look, but then he put two-and-two together and realised Dean didn't remember the ordeal with him being the Devil. And Cas knew it was better that way. 

He looked up to meet the man's gaze, and the forest green and the ocean blue stood together at a distance until the tide came crashing into the shore and their lips touched. 

It was soft. They both hurt all over, but they gently held onto to one another in such away that all their pain was vaporised. Cas broke away, his head swimming, and leaned down to put his forehead on Dean's shoulder. Dean ran his fingers through the angel's hair and his back and rocked them both together to keep warm. 

"Hey," Dean whispered softly, "Did we lose Benny?"

Cas shivered, but pulled away from their embrace to hold out his arm where Benny's soul still was. 

"You're too good, you know that?" Dean commented, smiling, and holding onto Cas's elbows and tugging the angel forward. He kissed him again, and they drifted into a little bubble of happiness and safety. 

"I love you." Cas murmured, his nose brushing against Dean's stubbly cheek.

"I love you so much." Dean replied, even though he'd meant to say 'I know'.

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
